Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Secret of the Seal skin ❯ Chapter seven: OId Sweet Mari ( Chapter 7 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Kakaro 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.07.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.5K | Visits: 122 | Status: Work In Progress
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.07.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.5K | Visits: 122 | Status: Work In Progress
The Secret of the Seal Skin
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent. If you recognise real person in these character, forget about it, I did not mean it intentionally.
---
“Old loves they die hard,
Old lies, they die harder.”
~ Nightwish
---
Chapter seven: Old Sweet Mari
Rowan had no difficulty finding the canned food in the supermarket, nor did she had trouble in finding the candles she needed since she had practically destroyed the only lamp she had back at the house. The only difficulty she had was finding a coat for Cian. She had promised him, or perhaps more to herself than Cian, that she would find a proper coat for him. There were a few candidates for possible purchase, but now that she was looking at coats, she wasn’t quite sure what size Cian would need.
Macael tried to help, but she guessed he was more trying to start a conversation, than anything else like helping. He asked her how she was faring, so far from home, how long she would stay, all the simple questions one would ask if they saw someone they hadn’t seen in years.
Macael hadn’t seen her in years, neither had she him, but she felt rather anxious to return to Cian, remembering the uncomfortable look on his face as he saw the men in front of the store. Apparently he wasn’t too fond of meeting new people, that was not something normal, but she could understand. Her father had had the same problem, he had been depressed, frightful and utterly disorientated the only time he had visited her in London. She had assured him everything was fine, and had guided him through the city, but her father had never been comfortable with so many people around. She guessed it was the same with Cian, and she could live with that. After all, he didn’t have to go with her, he wasn’t her boyfriend, neither was he her husband.
She smiled at the thought, no he definitely wasn’t. She could not quite imagine herself being married to someone as silent as Cian, it somewhat unnerved, she had felt comfortable with her father’s silence, but the silence Cian created always had something unnerving, something sad.
No, she would probably marry a rich, handsome bachelor back in London, they would have a huge apartment and a child perhaps, it their careers didn’t take too much time.
That seemed more appeasing to her.
Macael soon found a new customer to bother, as she continued searching through the used coats. Used coats were better than brand new coat, she had learned from her father. You could always be sure than an old one, if it looked all right, was well waxed, unlike a new one which would take more time than an old one, since you had to wax it more frequently to keep it watertight.
She held one of the wax coats up, studying it for holes or anything else which could indicate that the coat was damaged, but her eye caught a lone figure not far from where she was looking at the coats.
He had the right size, probably the same waist, and a little idea formed in her mind.
“Excuse me?” She called out, looking at the man in hope he would look up. He did, and she felt encouraged to ask her question. “Could you please pull on this coat, you have the right size I think as the one whom I want to buy it for.”
He blinked his eye, surprised at the request, but he nodded. “Sure, that won’t be much of a problem.”
He wasn’t from Orkney, she heard noticed. He did not have the island accent, nor the build most islanders had. His voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. She smiled as he pulled on the coat, spreading his arms as if to show the coat, a patient look on his face.
The coat fitted him, so she could only hope it fitted Cian too. She nodded, smiling thankfully at him. “I think the coat’s fine, thank you.”
He returned the smile, his eyes twinkling as he spoke; “I’m already feeling jealous at the guy who will wear it, it’s hot already.” He grinned at her, and now she realised whom she was talking too. Inwardly she smiled, but as she took the coat from him she kept her face straight saying;
“I’m glad you haven’t changed throughout the years Dimitri, you’re still the same.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, before his face brightened. She guessed he recognised her too.
“Are you sure I haven’t changed Rowan, you didn’t recognise me the moment you ask me to pull on that jacket for you, didn’t you?” His face carried a cheeky smile, and she shrugged apologetically.
“I’m sorry Dimitri, I didn’t no…”
“That’s all right, I did not recognise you either. My God Rowan! How long has it been, sixteen years?”
She thought it over, trying to think of the last time she had seen Dimitri Davies, she had been twelve perhaps, she couldn’t remember the year in which they had met. It had been summer, Dimitri had come along to the island together with his father who visited the island now and than. His father had been a hunter, shooting seals in his spare time. Of course the islanders had never quite appreciated the shooting of seals, and Dimitri’s father had been banned from the island after the summer had ended.
She had met Dimitri, who at that time had been three years older, when she had been playing on the beach. He had intended to make a stroll around the island, but had gotten lost. He had never admitted it, but she knew he had been. Her father had not minded that he stayed for dinner, and he had walked the boy back to the town that evening.
Dimitri had remembered the way to the house however, and that summer a vast friendship, and a little more, had been born that summer. As far as Rowan could remember Dimitri had the honour of being the first boy she kissed with, although she doubted her father would have approved it.
They had been inseparable that summer, until Dimitri had left together with his father. She had hoped for his return the next summer, but she had never seen him again.
He had changed throughout the years, he still had the slim face but it had matured. The only things which had not changed was his jet-black hair, and the sea green eyes she knew many a girl would love.
She had no doubt that many a girl would probably swoon at seeing him, she had to admit that he looked good, but somehow he rather felt artificial, and she doubted whether the white shining teeth were truly his.
She couldn’t help but compare him a little with the brown-haired Cian, with his large brown eyes. He looked far more natural than Dimitri ever could be, but somehow she thought that Dimitri wasn’t quite the nature guy.
“What bring you to Eday Dimitri?” She asked kindly, not quite knowing how to act around him after so many years.
“I have business to do here,” He said it casually, shrugging a little. She wondered what business he could possibly have on a small island such at Eday, but she didn’t feel like having a real conversation at the moment. She had all the things she needed, the coat, the candles and the food for the both of them, and although she found it not completely unpleasant to see Dimitri again, she wondered where Cian was.
Something about Dimitri, a sort of aggressiveness he radiated made her long for the calm look in Cian’s eyes.
“Do you still live here on the island Rowan? I always guessed that you would get a nice job, and leave this barren island. Are you married?”
He was quite direct, she had always thought that she could be called direct but he was even more so than her.
“No, no. I’m not, I’m just visiting.” She stammered, her mind in too much of a daze by the sudden questions that she didn’t know what to say.
“You’re married?” He asked, and she blinked. He pointed at the food and the wax coat she intended to buy, and she got his question.
“Oh no, I’m not. I’m just having a … friend over, he doesn’t have a proper coat just yet.” She quickly explained. Well, Cian was a sort of a friend she guessed, she didn’t know where he knew her from, but he had been nothing but friendly to her.
Dimitri nodded, seemingly pleased with her answer. He licked his lips, a movement which made her wonder what he was thinking, but he filled her in soon enough.
“You know, it is November again.” She patiently waited for him to continue, but he was looking at her as if he was waiting for a reply.
“Yes, I know.” She said, not knowing where he was heading too.
‘There are always bonfires in November, you know that of course.” She nodded, raising her eyebrows in a questioning way. “There will be one this week, two nights from now. If the weather is kind of course, you never know it on these islands.” He said it as if he was disgusted with the weather, but she didn’t pick up the hint and waited for him to continue. “Wouldn’t it be a nice idea if we went to that bonfire together Rowan, just to talk about times past,” He quickly assured her as he probably saw the look in her eyes.
The total score was now three, three guys in two days who wanted either to help her, her company and… She wasn’t quite sure what Cian wanted from her.
“I don’t know Dimitri,” She said, an uncomfortable feeling rising from her gut. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something about Dimitri made her feel uncomfortable, everything but safe. “I’m having someone over, I can’t just leave with someone else leaving him alone.”
“Oh I see.” Dimitri said immediately. “No, I wouldn’t too,” He agreed, “But ahh… Alone in that little house, with another man. Where did you place the extra bed?”
He had a good memory, there was no room for another bed in the small house, he had figured it out quickly.
“We figured something out, Dimitri, you shouldn’t worry about that.” She said with a smile, indicating that he had nothing to do with it.
He nodded, accepting the fact that he had gone a little too far. “I’m sure you have Rowan, but I have to go now. Take care of some things. I’ll drop by later to see whether you will come to the bonfire or not. My car won’t have any problem with that dirty old road leading to that little house, I heard that your father passed away, pity.” That was all he said, he didn’t really seem to mourn over it, and she felt irritation rise. She had said that she couldn’t just leave her guest alone, but he had decided that she would probably think over it or something. She would simply say no for the second time.
‘We’ll see Dimitri,” She replied with a colder tone in her voice. “Good luck with the work that must be done,”
He ignored the cold tone, staring at the window for a moment where the fishermen had gathered.
“Yeah, if I make it out alive.” He muttered.
“Why so?” Rowan had spoken those words without she quite realised it, and she regretted it immediately as Dimitri saw it as a reason to continue talking.
“They’re not quite agreeing on the fact that it’s allowed again to hunt seals. They should be happy, I hired most of their boats for the hunt. I share some of the profit I get from selling the skins, but all they seem to care about are those droopy seal eyes, and the memory of old tales long gone.”
He hadn’t seen the look on her face, which was a good thing. She could’ve known that he was here to hunt seals, he had always been very proud of his old man, it was only natural, in a way that he would follow the course his father had set.
It just made her sick, the idea that Dimitri would go after the seals. She could’ve known, but somehow she had just wanted to ignore the fact that his father had been a hunter.
“Oh, I see.” She heard herself mutter.
“You don’t agree with them, do you Rowan?” Dimitri asked, taking her hand, holding it as if it was a lifeline. “You do realise that it would only help Eday? Perhaps you all will finally have money enough to get central heating in all homes, and electricity. What’s a seal of two for that? It’s called survival of the cities, and we won’t kill all, just the old and the weak.”
She just stared at him, and nodded weakly. She had heard enough, she wanted to get away. She wanted to get to Cian, as if he were a safety zone. The feeling surprised her, but everything felt better than the disgust she felt for the man who was standing in front of her.
“I have to go now,” She said, tucking the coat under her arm to take it to Macael, where she would pay for the goods she wanted to have. “See you around,”
He said something equally to what she had said, promising he would visit her later, but she didn’t quite heard his words. She just wanted to get away as soon as possible.
The cool sea air on her face was a welcome feeling. It drove away the nasty thought of Dimitri telling her about the seal hunt he had planned. The fishermen had gone wild the moment they had seen Dimitri, but they had left her pass without much trouble. She felt thankful for that, she did not wish for any kind of confrontation.
Of course it would be good for Eday if the seal hunt proved to be a success, but was it really worth it? She felt unsure what to think, wanted some clarity.
Her father could have given her just that, she would have explained the things she didn’t understand in a soft understanding tone, taking her doubts away, telling her what to do in this kind of situation. But her father was gone, all she had at the moment was Cian. Cian wasn’t her father, but she could use his calm way of talking, and the look in his brown eyes more than anything else at the moment.
She walked into the direction where she had seen that he had headed off too, and wandered what he had had in mind when she had said that he should not have strayed too far.
The road she was following lead to the church, but also to the older part of the little town. She decided that she would first check out the church, before she would try to find him in the oldest part of the town.
The Church was very, very old, made of grey stone with a thick oak door. It was centuries old, one of the oldest churches on the islands if she remembered correctly. The inside of the church perhaps did not have the same splendour as some of the churches in Great Britain, but she remembered that she had been flabbergasted at the beauty inside of it.
She walked down the path to the oak door, which stood open. She somehow doubted it that Cian was inside, but she could always check. She perhaps did not believe in God, but she had always liked churches and cathedrals. They had a serenity most houses lacked.
But, as she had guessed, Cian was not inside the church. She knew of no reason why he would visit the graveyard, so she ruled out the latter option as she stood before the alter. A stone figure of Maria was looking down upon her, and she looked back into the stoic face. Perhaps her father was in heaven too, she didn’t know whether there was a heaven too for men who weren’t allowed inside of churches, but she doubted whether he would have gone to hell.
In Hell there was no place for kind men, that much she knew, and her father had been kind, gentle. There was simply no way that he could’ve ended up in Hell.
She glanced around, her eyes wandering over the old paintings of Jesus, the coloured windows, the old statues of saints. She liked the silence, there was no one but she in the old church. She sighed and sat down on the wooden bench, looking up into the face of the Mother, and felt a serene peace washing over her. She could understand why people visited churches. Even if God did not exist, Churches still made people believe in something greater, if only by the peace they held.
She sat there for several minutes, letting her eyes just wander around, until all thoughts of Dimitri and the terrible hunt he had in mind had left her mind leaving nothing but a clear head.
But Cian was not here, and she rose from her seat, dropping a pound in the little basket meant for donations, and calmly walked out of the church, in search of that strange man she hardly knew.
The old part of the town could not be called enormous, it would not even fit the word big, but it did take her two hours before she finally found someone who had seen a brown haired man in a grey jumper walking by. The old part was full of little streets, tiny portals, and whatever not that a man could take to get anywhere.
The old part of town was by far greener than the harbour part of town, although most of the trees had lost their leaves. The trees on either side of the old road made it look as if she was walking through a portal of branches. The inhabitants of the streets had probably done so on purpose, and she liked the idea. She knew this part of the town well. She had gone here with the rare friends she had had when she had been little, those with the ponies, and the girls with the dolls their fathers had bought. Her father had never bought her a doll, but the other girls had been willing to share their dolls for a short while if she traded one of her seashells. She had had many when she was little, her father had helped to find the prettiest on the beach. He had been an expert, and soon her collection and grown and grown.
She wondered what had happened to her little collection of seashells as she walked down the road to a fountain which had since long been broken. No water came from the bronze mouths of the seals, fish and other mythical creatures, but no one seemed to mind since the fountain had been given a new function. During the summer many would come to the fountain for a chat, using the rim of the fountain as a bench. It was broad, and comfortable to sit upon, some had placed old chair around the fountain, and that was where she found Cian.
He was sitting on the ground, next to one of the old chair someone had placed next to the fountain. He was not alone, she found out as she got nearer. He was listening to an old woman talking to him, a soft, loving look in his eyes as if he had known the woman for a very, very long time.
This made Rowan wonder, and she wanted to open her mouth to say something, but refrained from doing so as she saw whom he was listening too.
The old woman, who looked at least hundred, was sitting on the chair, looking down at the man who sat next to her seat as if he was merely a boy. She was running a hand through his curls, mumbling something in a language she did not understand. Orcadian perhaps, she did not know.
The odd thing was not that the man was sitting in front of the old woman, the oddest thing about the scene was that Mari had not talked in over twenty five years. But now she was talking softly to the man, to Cian, who sat there with an utterly loving smile on his lips, listening to her as if she was telling her grandson a story by the fire.
Finding it such an odd scene, and not quite knowing what to say, Rowan moved forward, and sat down besides Cian, trying to pick up some words she was mumbling to the grown man in front of her.
Perhaps she hadn’t noticed Rowan just yet, for she kept on mumbled in a strange language of sorts, until Cian gently took her old, worn hand and mumbled in the same tone, something in the same language.
The moment he had murmured those words which made no sense at all to Rowan, Mari looked up, turning her watery grey eyes to Rowan, a look in her eyes Rowan could not quite place, before the older woman smiled at her.
“Roane,” She murmured, gently laying a hand on her head too.
“No,” Rowan said, as gently as she possibly could. “Rowan, the daughter of Leod, who brought you fish every Saturday..”
The old woman did not seem to hear her, or simply did not care as she chuckled, running a hand through the fiery red locks that fell down Rowan’s shoulder.
“I remember Leod,” The old woman spoke softly, her English thick with an accent which could only be Orcadian. “He was a good man, my son told him that he left, I am sorry, dear.”
She bit her bottom lip, nodding her head at the words spoken. The old woman meant every word she said, a gently smile on her old, wrinkled but friendly face. Mari had known Leod well, perhaps better than anyone else. Leod had brought the old woman fish every Saturday, because her sons mostly worked on the fishermen’s boats and were not always able to help her. Leod had always come whenever she needed it, Rowan had always found it special that her father had always known when Mari needed him most, but now that she was older and wiser she found it a miracle that her father had always known. She had always walked besides him, down the road, as fast as they could whenever her father had said that Mari was in need of help. Sometimes it was something simple, a thread she couldn’t get through the eye of the needle, and something she had fallen to the floor and couldn’t get up.
But her father came every time she needed him, and Rowan had always followed. She remembered the cookies Mari always had, she had no idea where she had gotten those, but she still remembered their sweet taste.
She smiled at the older woman now, those memories fresh in mind. Mari gently patted her head, still smiling at her as she said; “It is what your father wanted, you should not hate him because he finally gave in.”
Rowan blinked, not quite knowing what the older woman had meant, and she glanced sideways at Cian. He shrugged and smiled at her, as if reassuring her that she would get the meaning of those words spoken to her.
“Little Rowan always liked stories, stories and cookies,” Mari continued, letting a fiery red lock of her hair fall through her fingers. “I remember that she especially liked stories about the sea,”
Cian moved beside her, and she glanced sideway, seeing that Cian had moved so that he could look at her directly. He leaned his hand on one arm, looking at her with an amused look in his. At least, she thought he did, he was being rather.. odd, he had a funny look about him.
“Yes, I always liked the stories you told me.” She said truthfully, most stories she remembered today were not told by her father, but by Mari.
“Shall I tell you another story?” Mari asked, Rowan nodded in surprise. The old woman had not spoken in twenty five years, and now she suddenly spoke to her, no, offered to tell a tale.
“I would like that,” She said, pulling her knees up to her chest. Mari nodded contently, sitting upright and letting out a story before she began.
“This story is about tragedy, and about things that could not be, about wishes unfulfilled, and about destiny.” Rowan could feel herself sitting up a little, listening intently to the rich, warm voice that began to tell a tale. “the story that I’m about to tell you, is not that old yet, and it tells about two men, a beautiful woman, and a little girl with fiery red hair…”
Tbc.
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent. If you recognise real person in these character, forget about it, I did not mean it intentionally.
---
“Old loves they die hard,
Old lies, they die harder.”
~ Nightwish
---
Chapter seven: Old Sweet Mari
Rowan had no difficulty finding the canned food in the supermarket, nor did she had trouble in finding the candles she needed since she had practically destroyed the only lamp she had back at the house. The only difficulty she had was finding a coat for Cian. She had promised him, or perhaps more to herself than Cian, that she would find a proper coat for him. There were a few candidates for possible purchase, but now that she was looking at coats, she wasn’t quite sure what size Cian would need.
Macael tried to help, but she guessed he was more trying to start a conversation, than anything else like helping. He asked her how she was faring, so far from home, how long she would stay, all the simple questions one would ask if they saw someone they hadn’t seen in years.
Macael hadn’t seen her in years, neither had she him, but she felt rather anxious to return to Cian, remembering the uncomfortable look on his face as he saw the men in front of the store. Apparently he wasn’t too fond of meeting new people, that was not something normal, but she could understand. Her father had had the same problem, he had been depressed, frightful and utterly disorientated the only time he had visited her in London. She had assured him everything was fine, and had guided him through the city, but her father had never been comfortable with so many people around. She guessed it was the same with Cian, and she could live with that. After all, he didn’t have to go with her, he wasn’t her boyfriend, neither was he her husband.
She smiled at the thought, no he definitely wasn’t. She could not quite imagine herself being married to someone as silent as Cian, it somewhat unnerved, she had felt comfortable with her father’s silence, but the silence Cian created always had something unnerving, something sad.
No, she would probably marry a rich, handsome bachelor back in London, they would have a huge apartment and a child perhaps, it their careers didn’t take too much time.
That seemed more appeasing to her.
Macael soon found a new customer to bother, as she continued searching through the used coats. Used coats were better than brand new coat, she had learned from her father. You could always be sure than an old one, if it looked all right, was well waxed, unlike a new one which would take more time than an old one, since you had to wax it more frequently to keep it watertight.
She held one of the wax coats up, studying it for holes or anything else which could indicate that the coat was damaged, but her eye caught a lone figure not far from where she was looking at the coats.
He had the right size, probably the same waist, and a little idea formed in her mind.
“Excuse me?” She called out, looking at the man in hope he would look up. He did, and she felt encouraged to ask her question. “Could you please pull on this coat, you have the right size I think as the one whom I want to buy it for.”
He blinked his eye, surprised at the request, but he nodded. “Sure, that won’t be much of a problem.”
He wasn’t from Orkney, she heard noticed. He did not have the island accent, nor the build most islanders had. His voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. She smiled as he pulled on the coat, spreading his arms as if to show the coat, a patient look on his face.
The coat fitted him, so she could only hope it fitted Cian too. She nodded, smiling thankfully at him. “I think the coat’s fine, thank you.”
He returned the smile, his eyes twinkling as he spoke; “I’m already feeling jealous at the guy who will wear it, it’s hot already.” He grinned at her, and now she realised whom she was talking too. Inwardly she smiled, but as she took the coat from him she kept her face straight saying;
“I’m glad you haven’t changed throughout the years Dimitri, you’re still the same.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, before his face brightened. She guessed he recognised her too.
“Are you sure I haven’t changed Rowan, you didn’t recognise me the moment you ask me to pull on that jacket for you, didn’t you?” His face carried a cheeky smile, and she shrugged apologetically.
“I’m sorry Dimitri, I didn’t no…”
“That’s all right, I did not recognise you either. My God Rowan! How long has it been, sixteen years?”
She thought it over, trying to think of the last time she had seen Dimitri Davies, she had been twelve perhaps, she couldn’t remember the year in which they had met. It had been summer, Dimitri had come along to the island together with his father who visited the island now and than. His father had been a hunter, shooting seals in his spare time. Of course the islanders had never quite appreciated the shooting of seals, and Dimitri’s father had been banned from the island after the summer had ended.
She had met Dimitri, who at that time had been three years older, when she had been playing on the beach. He had intended to make a stroll around the island, but had gotten lost. He had never admitted it, but she knew he had been. Her father had not minded that he stayed for dinner, and he had walked the boy back to the town that evening.
Dimitri had remembered the way to the house however, and that summer a vast friendship, and a little more, had been born that summer. As far as Rowan could remember Dimitri had the honour of being the first boy she kissed with, although she doubted her father would have approved it.
They had been inseparable that summer, until Dimitri had left together with his father. She had hoped for his return the next summer, but she had never seen him again.
He had changed throughout the years, he still had the slim face but it had matured. The only things which had not changed was his jet-black hair, and the sea green eyes she knew many a girl would love.
She had no doubt that many a girl would probably swoon at seeing him, she had to admit that he looked good, but somehow he rather felt artificial, and she doubted whether the white shining teeth were truly his.
She couldn’t help but compare him a little with the brown-haired Cian, with his large brown eyes. He looked far more natural than Dimitri ever could be, but somehow she thought that Dimitri wasn’t quite the nature guy.
“What bring you to Eday Dimitri?” She asked kindly, not quite knowing how to act around him after so many years.
“I have business to do here,” He said it casually, shrugging a little. She wondered what business he could possibly have on a small island such at Eday, but she didn’t feel like having a real conversation at the moment. She had all the things she needed, the coat, the candles and the food for the both of them, and although she found it not completely unpleasant to see Dimitri again, she wondered where Cian was.
Something about Dimitri, a sort of aggressiveness he radiated made her long for the calm look in Cian’s eyes.
“Do you still live here on the island Rowan? I always guessed that you would get a nice job, and leave this barren island. Are you married?”
He was quite direct, she had always thought that she could be called direct but he was even more so than her.
“No, no. I’m not, I’m just visiting.” She stammered, her mind in too much of a daze by the sudden questions that she didn’t know what to say.
“You’re married?” He asked, and she blinked. He pointed at the food and the wax coat she intended to buy, and she got his question.
“Oh no, I’m not. I’m just having a … friend over, he doesn’t have a proper coat just yet.” She quickly explained. Well, Cian was a sort of a friend she guessed, she didn’t know where he knew her from, but he had been nothing but friendly to her.
Dimitri nodded, seemingly pleased with her answer. He licked his lips, a movement which made her wonder what he was thinking, but he filled her in soon enough.
“You know, it is November again.” She patiently waited for him to continue, but he was looking at her as if he was waiting for a reply.
“Yes, I know.” She said, not knowing where he was heading too.
‘There are always bonfires in November, you know that of course.” She nodded, raising her eyebrows in a questioning way. “There will be one this week, two nights from now. If the weather is kind of course, you never know it on these islands.” He said it as if he was disgusted with the weather, but she didn’t pick up the hint and waited for him to continue. “Wouldn’t it be a nice idea if we went to that bonfire together Rowan, just to talk about times past,” He quickly assured her as he probably saw the look in her eyes.
The total score was now three, three guys in two days who wanted either to help her, her company and… She wasn’t quite sure what Cian wanted from her.
“I don’t know Dimitri,” She said, an uncomfortable feeling rising from her gut. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something about Dimitri made her feel uncomfortable, everything but safe. “I’m having someone over, I can’t just leave with someone else leaving him alone.”
“Oh I see.” Dimitri said immediately. “No, I wouldn’t too,” He agreed, “But ahh… Alone in that little house, with another man. Where did you place the extra bed?”
He had a good memory, there was no room for another bed in the small house, he had figured it out quickly.
“We figured something out, Dimitri, you shouldn’t worry about that.” She said with a smile, indicating that he had nothing to do with it.
He nodded, accepting the fact that he had gone a little too far. “I’m sure you have Rowan, but I have to go now. Take care of some things. I’ll drop by later to see whether you will come to the bonfire or not. My car won’t have any problem with that dirty old road leading to that little house, I heard that your father passed away, pity.” That was all he said, he didn’t really seem to mourn over it, and she felt irritation rise. She had said that she couldn’t just leave her guest alone, but he had decided that she would probably think over it or something. She would simply say no for the second time.
‘We’ll see Dimitri,” She replied with a colder tone in her voice. “Good luck with the work that must be done,”
He ignored the cold tone, staring at the window for a moment where the fishermen had gathered.
“Yeah, if I make it out alive.” He muttered.
“Why so?” Rowan had spoken those words without she quite realised it, and she regretted it immediately as Dimitri saw it as a reason to continue talking.
“They’re not quite agreeing on the fact that it’s allowed again to hunt seals. They should be happy, I hired most of their boats for the hunt. I share some of the profit I get from selling the skins, but all they seem to care about are those droopy seal eyes, and the memory of old tales long gone.”
He hadn’t seen the look on her face, which was a good thing. She could’ve known that he was here to hunt seals, he had always been very proud of his old man, it was only natural, in a way that he would follow the course his father had set.
It just made her sick, the idea that Dimitri would go after the seals. She could’ve known, but somehow she had just wanted to ignore the fact that his father had been a hunter.
“Oh, I see.” She heard herself mutter.
“You don’t agree with them, do you Rowan?” Dimitri asked, taking her hand, holding it as if it was a lifeline. “You do realise that it would only help Eday? Perhaps you all will finally have money enough to get central heating in all homes, and electricity. What’s a seal of two for that? It’s called survival of the cities, and we won’t kill all, just the old and the weak.”
She just stared at him, and nodded weakly. She had heard enough, she wanted to get away. She wanted to get to Cian, as if he were a safety zone. The feeling surprised her, but everything felt better than the disgust she felt for the man who was standing in front of her.
“I have to go now,” She said, tucking the coat under her arm to take it to Macael, where she would pay for the goods she wanted to have. “See you around,”
He said something equally to what she had said, promising he would visit her later, but she didn’t quite heard his words. She just wanted to get away as soon as possible.
The cool sea air on her face was a welcome feeling. It drove away the nasty thought of Dimitri telling her about the seal hunt he had planned. The fishermen had gone wild the moment they had seen Dimitri, but they had left her pass without much trouble. She felt thankful for that, she did not wish for any kind of confrontation.
Of course it would be good for Eday if the seal hunt proved to be a success, but was it really worth it? She felt unsure what to think, wanted some clarity.
Her father could have given her just that, she would have explained the things she didn’t understand in a soft understanding tone, taking her doubts away, telling her what to do in this kind of situation. But her father was gone, all she had at the moment was Cian. Cian wasn’t her father, but she could use his calm way of talking, and the look in his brown eyes more than anything else at the moment.
She walked into the direction where she had seen that he had headed off too, and wandered what he had had in mind when she had said that he should not have strayed too far.
The road she was following lead to the church, but also to the older part of the little town. She decided that she would first check out the church, before she would try to find him in the oldest part of the town.
The Church was very, very old, made of grey stone with a thick oak door. It was centuries old, one of the oldest churches on the islands if she remembered correctly. The inside of the church perhaps did not have the same splendour as some of the churches in Great Britain, but she remembered that she had been flabbergasted at the beauty inside of it.
She walked down the path to the oak door, which stood open. She somehow doubted it that Cian was inside, but she could always check. She perhaps did not believe in God, but she had always liked churches and cathedrals. They had a serenity most houses lacked.
But, as she had guessed, Cian was not inside the church. She knew of no reason why he would visit the graveyard, so she ruled out the latter option as she stood before the alter. A stone figure of Maria was looking down upon her, and she looked back into the stoic face. Perhaps her father was in heaven too, she didn’t know whether there was a heaven too for men who weren’t allowed inside of churches, but she doubted whether he would have gone to hell.
In Hell there was no place for kind men, that much she knew, and her father had been kind, gentle. There was simply no way that he could’ve ended up in Hell.
She glanced around, her eyes wandering over the old paintings of Jesus, the coloured windows, the old statues of saints. She liked the silence, there was no one but she in the old church. She sighed and sat down on the wooden bench, looking up into the face of the Mother, and felt a serene peace washing over her. She could understand why people visited churches. Even if God did not exist, Churches still made people believe in something greater, if only by the peace they held.
She sat there for several minutes, letting her eyes just wander around, until all thoughts of Dimitri and the terrible hunt he had in mind had left her mind leaving nothing but a clear head.
But Cian was not here, and she rose from her seat, dropping a pound in the little basket meant for donations, and calmly walked out of the church, in search of that strange man she hardly knew.
The old part of the town could not be called enormous, it would not even fit the word big, but it did take her two hours before she finally found someone who had seen a brown haired man in a grey jumper walking by. The old part was full of little streets, tiny portals, and whatever not that a man could take to get anywhere.
The old part of town was by far greener than the harbour part of town, although most of the trees had lost their leaves. The trees on either side of the old road made it look as if she was walking through a portal of branches. The inhabitants of the streets had probably done so on purpose, and she liked the idea. She knew this part of the town well. She had gone here with the rare friends she had had when she had been little, those with the ponies, and the girls with the dolls their fathers had bought. Her father had never bought her a doll, but the other girls had been willing to share their dolls for a short while if she traded one of her seashells. She had had many when she was little, her father had helped to find the prettiest on the beach. He had been an expert, and soon her collection and grown and grown.
She wondered what had happened to her little collection of seashells as she walked down the road to a fountain which had since long been broken. No water came from the bronze mouths of the seals, fish and other mythical creatures, but no one seemed to mind since the fountain had been given a new function. During the summer many would come to the fountain for a chat, using the rim of the fountain as a bench. It was broad, and comfortable to sit upon, some had placed old chair around the fountain, and that was where she found Cian.
He was sitting on the ground, next to one of the old chair someone had placed next to the fountain. He was not alone, she found out as she got nearer. He was listening to an old woman talking to him, a soft, loving look in his eyes as if he had known the woman for a very, very long time.
This made Rowan wonder, and she wanted to open her mouth to say something, but refrained from doing so as she saw whom he was listening too.
The old woman, who looked at least hundred, was sitting on the chair, looking down at the man who sat next to her seat as if he was merely a boy. She was running a hand through his curls, mumbling something in a language she did not understand. Orcadian perhaps, she did not know.
The odd thing was not that the man was sitting in front of the old woman, the oddest thing about the scene was that Mari had not talked in over twenty five years. But now she was talking softly to the man, to Cian, who sat there with an utterly loving smile on his lips, listening to her as if she was telling her grandson a story by the fire.
Finding it such an odd scene, and not quite knowing what to say, Rowan moved forward, and sat down besides Cian, trying to pick up some words she was mumbling to the grown man in front of her.
Perhaps she hadn’t noticed Rowan just yet, for she kept on mumbled in a strange language of sorts, until Cian gently took her old, worn hand and mumbled in the same tone, something in the same language.
The moment he had murmured those words which made no sense at all to Rowan, Mari looked up, turning her watery grey eyes to Rowan, a look in her eyes Rowan could not quite place, before the older woman smiled at her.
“Roane,” She murmured, gently laying a hand on her head too.
“No,” Rowan said, as gently as she possibly could. “Rowan, the daughter of Leod, who brought you fish every Saturday..”
The old woman did not seem to hear her, or simply did not care as she chuckled, running a hand through the fiery red locks that fell down Rowan’s shoulder.
“I remember Leod,” The old woman spoke softly, her English thick with an accent which could only be Orcadian. “He was a good man, my son told him that he left, I am sorry, dear.”
She bit her bottom lip, nodding her head at the words spoken. The old woman meant every word she said, a gently smile on her old, wrinkled but friendly face. Mari had known Leod well, perhaps better than anyone else. Leod had brought the old woman fish every Saturday, because her sons mostly worked on the fishermen’s boats and were not always able to help her. Leod had always come whenever she needed it, Rowan had always found it special that her father had always known when Mari needed him most, but now that she was older and wiser she found it a miracle that her father had always known. She had always walked besides him, down the road, as fast as they could whenever her father had said that Mari was in need of help. Sometimes it was something simple, a thread she couldn’t get through the eye of the needle, and something she had fallen to the floor and couldn’t get up.
But her father came every time she needed him, and Rowan had always followed. She remembered the cookies Mari always had, she had no idea where she had gotten those, but she still remembered their sweet taste.
She smiled at the older woman now, those memories fresh in mind. Mari gently patted her head, still smiling at her as she said; “It is what your father wanted, you should not hate him because he finally gave in.”
Rowan blinked, not quite knowing what the older woman had meant, and she glanced sideways at Cian. He shrugged and smiled at her, as if reassuring her that she would get the meaning of those words spoken to her.
“Little Rowan always liked stories, stories and cookies,” Mari continued, letting a fiery red lock of her hair fall through her fingers. “I remember that she especially liked stories about the sea,”
Cian moved beside her, and she glanced sideway, seeing that Cian had moved so that he could look at her directly. He leaned his hand on one arm, looking at her with an amused look in his. At least, she thought he did, he was being rather.. odd, he had a funny look about him.
“Yes, I always liked the stories you told me.” She said truthfully, most stories she remembered today were not told by her father, but by Mari.
“Shall I tell you another story?” Mari asked, Rowan nodded in surprise. The old woman had not spoken in twenty five years, and now she suddenly spoke to her, no, offered to tell a tale.
“I would like that,” She said, pulling her knees up to her chest. Mari nodded contently, sitting upright and letting out a story before she began.
“This story is about tragedy, and about things that could not be, about wishes unfulfilled, and about destiny.” Rowan could feel herself sitting up a little, listening intently to the rich, warm voice that began to tell a tale. “the story that I’m about to tell you, is not that old yet, and it tells about two men, a beautiful woman, and a little girl with fiery red hair…”
Tbc.